


it all crumbles

by blunted_edge



Series: Halloween Fic-or-Treat 2015 [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, GTA AU, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, no happy endings here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-11-13
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blunted_edge/pseuds/blunted_edge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Michael looked at Ray and Ryan and wondered about their intentions. He’d always laughed it off before– Ray was his <i>best friend</i>. They’d joined this crew together as a package deal. The very thought of any betrayal seemed wild and impossible.</p><p>His instinct always knew better than him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it all crumbles

**Author's Note:**

> originally posted [here on my tumblr](http://ahcity-shenanigans.tumblr.com/post/132287958125/can-i-fic-or-treat-some-micheoff-d) for halloweenie. people came to me with prompts, i tossed a coin between angst or fluff. in this case, hardcore angst.
> 
> (also: unsure if this is graphic violence? wouldn't think so, but better safe than sorry)

“Ryan, where’s Ray?”

By now it’s past the point of jokes about being dead in a back alley and progressed into hard looks and silence. Michael’s been worried for the past week, and Geoff’s stopped brushing off his concerns when the radio silence finally hit a ten day streak. 

Ryan is sitting on the pristine white couch in the penthouse. He glances over at Geoff, at his freshly-laundered suit. The look in his eyes contrasts sharply with his relaxed pose.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

Michael had been willing to think there’d been an accident, that Ray really _had_ died in a back alley somewhere, but deep in his gut he knows that Ryan’s lying. The delivery’s too smooth.

“Don’t lie, Ryan,” Michael spits, gravitating towards Geoff’s side as Ryan’s stare locks on him.

“It’s alright, Michael,” Geoff says softly. “I’d rather this not be a fight.” He sighs and rubs his face while Ryan watches all the while.

Ryan looks away. “Would you?” He asks the air wistfully. “Just let him go?”

“No.” Geoff straightens up, drawing all the power of the top crew in Los Santos around him like the cloak of a proud king. “We’re all here together. We all started this _together._ I need to protect my own, you know that.”

Knots are forming Michael’s stomach and his hand strays to the pistol on his belt. He would have left it– but–

“If you don’t burn the bridges, I will.” Ryan says. “And you know how I am about fire by now.”

Michael isn’t as fast as the Vagabond. He screams as the shot rings out, pulls out his pistol as Geoff is falling, and shoots twice just before Ryan manages to re-adjust his aim.

“You fuck!” Michael shouts. “You _piece of shit!”_ He drops to his knees next to Geoff, his chest spasming as he sees the bullet hole in Geoff’s throat, as he hears the desperate gasps for air past the ringing in his ears. “Geoff– it’s alright Geoff I’m calling Caleb–”

Geoff looks at him, eyes wide, as he covers the wound with his palm and speed dials with his other hand. “Penthouse, _now,_ Geoff’s shot in the throat,” he snaps into the phone when Caleb picks up. He stays on the call but focuses back on Geoff. “Caleb’s coming, Geoff, just hold on, we got this.”

A hand fumbles up to fist in the fabric of his shirt, then grip his arm. Michael tries not to hyperventilate.

It’s a couple horrible minutes of Geoff slowly, painfully choking to death underneath Michael’s watch when Caleb says, “ _SWAT’s at the ground floor, I can’t get in. Michael, you need to get out of there.”_

Geoff closes his eyes as Michael’s face crumples.

“No, no, Geoff, c’mon, no, no, open your eyes–” Michael drops the phone and shakes him. Geoff just lolls his head, barely able to wheeze anymore. “ _Geoff please._ God damnit. Geoff.” It’s hopeless, Michael knows it, and he presses his forehead against Geoff’s, cupping his hands against the other man’s jaw.

“I’m so sorry.” Michael tries to haul in a breath past his grief. “Geoff, I love you.”

He can’t feel a pulse anymore. Michael moans through his teeth, then grabs his phone and pulls himself to his feet. The roof– the roof is his best bet.

Michael runs out of the penthouse, gun in hand.


End file.
